Darkness of Dreams
by HPpercygirl
Summary: CoFA SPOILERS! DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CITY OF FALLEN ANGELS.  Jace has one of his bad dreams, and Clary is there for him. Rated T for kissing and innuendos. Lots of Clary/Jace.


**I'm here once again with another Mortal Instruments Fanfic! This one happens during City of Fallen Angles, and has SPOILERS so watch out. **

**Jace has one of THOSE bad dreams and Clary is there to comfort him. Mostly fluff and Clace. R&R, please! (:**

**As always, the characters belong to the wonderful Cassandra Clare! I'm just having fun with them. **

_Clary moaned against his mouth as he pulled her closer, his hands making their way under her thin nightshirt to wrap gently around her small stomach. He kissed her eagerly on the lips and she responded by deepening it. He rolled over on the bed so he was on top of her, in between her legs. He pressed down into her, bringing one hand out of her shirt. She stopped kissing him, a confused look on her face, as he grabbed the knife and brought it down._

Jace woke up instantly, his body covered in a cold sweat. He sat up, untangling himself from his mess of sheets and blankets on his bed. He checked the clock in his room; he'd only been asleep for half an hour. He hurriedly got off the bed, kicking the box which held his father's knife on his way to his bathroom. He rested his hands on the counter in front of the mirror, trying to steady his breath and his heartbeat.

Looking up, he stared himself in the eyes. He could see that they were red, as if he had been crying. There were black circles under them; proof that he hadn't been sleeping well lately. His mouth was a straight, pale line. The rest of him looked normal; his bare chest covered with runes, his too-long pajama pants, and his bare feet. The only other thing he noticed about himself was that his whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

Slowly, he returned to his bed. Instead of getting back under the blankets, though, he sat on the end of it, his back as straight as a board. He didn't want to go back to sleep. He didn't want to have another dream like that. Once a night was bad enough.

He sighed, leaning forward to put his face in his hands. What was wrong with him? Why did he keep dreaming about hurting Clary? Of course that was his biggest fear – that _something _would hurt Clary – but why dream that the something was him? And why every night?

There was a knock at his door. His head still in his hands, he mumbled "Come in." The door made a whooshing noise as it slid across the carpet and made a click as it closed.

"Jace?" The voice made him look up immediately, and despite his mood he smiled. He was already standing, as if his body was automatically drawn to Clary and didn't need to be told what to do.

They reached each other halfway between the door and his bed and he wrapped his arms around her protectively. They stood there for a few minutes, not saying anything, just hugging. Finally, he kissed her forehead and leaned away from her, his hands on her shoulders.

"Why are you here? I thought you weren't allowed here at night." Although the words came from his mouth, he didn't mean them. He was so glad that Clary was here and he honestly didn't care if she was breaking any rules to see him.

Clary laughed lightly. "Mom and Luke won't notice." She said simply before pressing herself against Jace. That was a good enough answer for him, too, because he started kissing her, pulling her as close to him as he could. He felt her heartbeat through the thin fabric of her tank top matching his own with every quick beat. The kiss deepened, and his tongue met hers, performing a dance together like they had done so many times before.

When they broke away for air, Jace moved his mouth to the hollow of Clary's neck, sucking and kissing the skin there. Clary arched her back, giving him better access. When he looked at her, her eyes were rolled back. He smirked, staring at her face until she looked back at him. When she did, her expression became one of worry.

"Jace," she whispered, her finger tracing his eyes and the circles that were there. "I'll go," she said quickly, pulling away. "You need to sleep. I just –" She shook her head. "I'll come over later, okay?" Jace's eyes widened as she turned away from him.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, surprising both himself and Clary with the intensity of the word. "Please," he shook his head once, looking incredibly vulnerable, "don't go. I want to hold you."

That was all it took for Clary to go back to him. She couldn't believe how vulnerable and sad he looked, and she couldn't bear to leave him like that. She cuddled close to him as they sunk down onto the bed, lying on their sides. They lay there like that for a very long time, not saying anything, not kissing. Just holding each other.

In all actuality, they rarely just held each other. There was almost always kissing. It was almost always heated, passionate, intense. That was just how their love was – it was like they needed each other just as much as they needed air to breathe. Like they _had _to be close to survive. Their kisses were like the air.

Right now though, Clary thought this was almost better than heated kisses. The way Jace was holding her, just holding her close and protectively, it proved to her that he loved her for _her_, and not for her physical appeal.

"Jace," she whispered. She was sorry to break the great silence, but she couldn't help herself. He moaned quietly into her hair and shook his head as if asking her to stay quiet. She didn't, though. "Jace," she repeated, "What's wrong?" She leaned back far enough to look in his eyes. They were closed. With a sigh, she began tracing her finger lightly across his face, waiting for a response.

"Bad dreams," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. Clary smiled softly at the childish answer.

"Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" she offered. Only after the question was out of her mouth did she realize her mistake.

Jace's dark mood went away as he automatically heard the innuendo in Clary's question. A smirk even appeared on his lips. "Clarissa Fray," he said, sounding shocked. Clary was honestly surprised by his sudden mood swing, and didn't respond. "Your mother wouldn't appreciate you making that offer, as much as I might like to take you up on it."

Clary blushed. "You seem better, now." Her voice squeaked as she tried to make the joke.

Jace smiled, lying his head back down and pulling Clary back in. "Like I said before, Clary; I just want to be with you. And whether that means doing this–" he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her nose– "or doing something else, I don't care." Clary thought for a moment she could hear a quiver in his voice, but looked past it. "Don't worry," he shook his head. "I'll be a good boy. But if you could… I _would_ like you to sleep with me."

Now, she knew that he meant just sleep with him how they were, cuddling together in his bed like that night in Idris.

"I'd love to," she whispered gently. They settled together under the sheet, with their heads sharing one pillow. Jace wrapped his arms protectively around her while she fell asleep.

It wasn't until she had been asleep for a half hour that Jace slowly rolled off of the bed. He picked up the box that held his father's knife, staring at the weapon as if it were the worst thing he'd ever seen. Then, he walked to the closet and set the box in it, under a pile of shoes and clothes. Only then did he return to his bed, wrap his arms around Clary again, and fall asleep.

He didn't have the bad dream again that night.


End file.
